"Well, it's about time for spring house-cleaning, you know--do men ever have spring house-cleaning?" "This one will," Allan promised, and smiled down into her friendly eyes. Just then the familiar signal, "31," which heralded the transmission of a train-order, sounded from the table, and he sat down to receive it. After it had been repeated and confirmed, he turned again to his guest. "Hadn't I better wire your father," he asked, "that you are here and will be home on Number Thirteen this evening?" She stared at him in amazement. "Why, how do you know who my father is?" she demanded. "I happened to be in his office one day about a year ago, when you came after him," he explained. "Oh," she said, but she still looked at him a little doubtfully. "My name's West," he added. "Allan West?" There was a genuine interest in her eyes now. "Oh, I've heard papa speak of you." "Nothing very bad, I hope?" "No--quite the contrary. Why," she added, gasping a little, as though just realizing it, "then you're the boy who--who saved the pay-car and--" "The very same," he interrupted, blushing in spite of himself. "Shall I send the message?" "Yes; please do. Papa will be worried when he comes to the train to meet me and finds me not on it--especially as my coat and grip and umbrella are. He'll think I've been kidnapped." "You were left, then?" he asked. "Yes; I was on my way home from visiting a friend at Deer Park, and was so tired with sitting, that when the train stopped here to take water, I thought I'd get off and walk the kinks out. Then I saw a beautiful patch of these wake-robins and violets just at the edge of that little grove, and I couldn't resist the temptation to gather a few; and I suppose I must have gone into the grove deeper than I intended, for I didn't hear the train start, and was never so astonished in my life as when I came out on the track and found it gone." Allan smiled at the earnestness with which she told the story. "I'll wire your father," he said, and called up headquarters. For a few minutes there was a sharp interchange of dots and dashes. Then Allan closed the key and turned back to her. "It's all right," he said. "He understands." "I think it's perfectly wonderful your being able to talk to each other that way," she commented. "What did he say?" "He said," stammered Allan, confused by the sudden question; "he said it was all right." What Mr. Heywood really said was: "All right. Keep her there and bring her in on thirteen, and don't make love to her any more than you can help." She noticed the stammer and gazed at him with her clear eyes, which, he saw now, were blue. "Was that all he said?" "Well, he said he'd meet you at the train this evening." "Yes; and what else?" "He said," answered Allan, floundering desperately, "that, if you had to be left somewhere, he was glad it was here."